


Drag me to Hell

by Ironkhaleesi



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Winchester One Shot, F/M, Gore and Blood, supernatural one shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-12
Updated: 2015-01-12
Packaged: 2018-03-07 08:38:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3168536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ironkhaleesi/pseuds/Ironkhaleesi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You and Dean were sent to Hell, and while the two of you were there you were one of the souls that Dean tortured. The two of you then get pulled out of Hell. This is the story of how you managed put the pieces of your broken relationship back together again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drag me to Hell

“No! Dean please!” You shrieked in agony, before letting out another huge sob.

“Dean’s not here anymore.” Alistair mocked as the black eyed version of the man you once considered your best friend came towards you once again with a knife.

He jammed the blood stained blade into your stomach and gutted you, literally. Your intestines spilling out onto the floor. You shrieked and cried again as you thrashed at your restraints. You just wanted the pain to stop, you wanted to never see that malevolent smile on Dean’s face again as he carved you up, but Alistair’s price was far too high. You could never let yourself turn into what Dean now was. If it was even Dean any more.

Dean-the thing- moved towards your head and you sobbed uncontrollably as you looked up at him. “Please.” You managed to whimper out. “Please Dean, it’s me. It’s Y/N. You said you never wanted to hurt me.”

He just smiled cruelly down at you before sawing into your shoulder with the blade. You screamed out again and resumed your thrashing. Somewhere amongst it all you sent out a silent prayer, but there was a seed of doubt in your mind about whether it would ever be answered, and the seed grew with each agonising slash.

****

Your hand burst through the resistance of the dirt and your head soon followed, gasping in a big breath of the fresh air that you had mourned for what felt like centuries. Before you let your thoughts wander back to what you’d experienced in Hell, you first pulled the rest of yourself out of what you soon realised was your grave.

You stood, on shaky legs, for a few moments as you took it all in. There was a circle of fallen trees around you but you didn’t care. You only cared about the sun, and the air, and fresh smells. You felt a laugh bubble up in your throat but it soon turned into a sob as you collapsed to your knees. You let an agonised, piercing scream as the memories of hell flooded you.

You sat on your heels with your arms wrapped around yourself as you rocked back and forth sobbing and screaming your pain. Suddenly, a hand fell heavily on your shoulder and you cried out in fright as you spun and fell onto your backside, scuttling backwards in terror as you saw who stood over you.

“It’s okay Y/N, it’s just me. Dean.” Dean said as he held his hands up and looked down at you in concern.

You shook your head as your sobs turned silent. “Stay away from me.” You whined. “I can’t take it anymore.” This had to be some cruel joke. It seemed like the kind of thing that Alistair would do.

“Y/N. It’s Dean. It’s me.” Dean came forward and crouched down in front of you, gripping your shoulders tightly.

You let out a broken scream and kicked out at him, but he blocked it easily and pulled you closer. “Jesus Y/N. Do you remember what happened?”

You didn’t answer, you just pushed at him weakly as you began sobbing again. He pulled you into a tight hug and you found that you just couldn’t muster up the strength to fight him off anymore. And you wouldn’t admit it too yourself, but you didn’t want to, even if this was some cruel trick being played on you, it had been so long since you’d seen the old Dean. Your Dean. And you wanted to relish in it.

“It’s okay, we’re out now, no one is gonna hurt you ever again, I won’t let them.” He whispered into your ear before dropping a kiss into your hair and squeezing his eyes shut. He couldn’t even begin to imagine what you had went through. He couldn’t remember anything at the moment, but bits and pieces like sounds and smells were trickling into his mind. He had to admit though, if whatever happened to the two of you down in Hell managed to turn you into a sobbing mess, he didn’t think he’d survive his own memories.

****

The two of you had been walking for hours, days, weeks, you didn’t know anymore. Your internal clock was all off, and with the memories that bombarded your every waking minute you were finding it difficult to focus on where you were walking. Dean guided you, he seemed to have a level head, so either this was a joke, or you really were back on earth and Dean didn’t remember a thing. Either way you couldn’t be within two feet of him without your skin crawling, you couldn’t even look at him without seeing his eyes flash to black in your mind, or that evil smile spread across his face. He tried to touch you a few times, but that would just cause another one of your ‘episodes’ as Dean had come to call them, episodes where you would just turn into a sobbing, rocking mess on the ground, and sometimes you would even try and beat him into a bloody pulp, so he learned not to touch you. He tried talking to you as well, but you wouldn’t say anything, you’d just hug yourself and watch the ground that you walked on, your eyes vacant as you became lost in the agony you were experiencing not too long ago. He even tried to smile at you, tried to make some sort of eye contact with you, but you wouldn’t look at him, not once, not even during your episodes.

Eventually he just gave up all kinds of communication and focused on getting you too Bobby’s house. He needed to get you help, he needed to make you better, he needed his best friend back.

****

When the two of you made it too Bobby’s house, you’d finally crawled back out of your mind a little bit. You still weren’t acknowledging Dean, but you were starting to think things through and believing that you were finally out of Hell; that this wasn’t a trick. The problem was, you weren’t sure if that made your situation better or worse. Sure, you were out of Hell, but now you had to look at Dean every single day and remember what he did to you. He may be back to his old self, how, you still didn’t know, but even if he was, it didn’t stop you from seeing the monster that he had been every time you looked at him. Truth be told, you weren’t sure if it was a wound that would ever heal. Seeing Dean that way, watching him hurt you and knowing that he enjoyed doing it, it broke something inside of you. Something that could never be fixed.

“What’s wrong with her?” Bobby asked quietly as he and Dean stood side by side watching you. Your hair was still dripping with the holy water that Bobby had thrown on the two of you at the doorstep, the taste of salt was on your tongue and the cut on your arm still had a sting to it, but none of it mattered at that point. What mattered was the smell of Bobby’s house, and the comfort of the couch you were curled up in, and the fact that you were able to bring your knees up to your chest and wrap your arms around them because you weren’t restrained any more.

Dean shook his head. “I don’t know, Bobby. She was like this when I pulled myself out of the ground. Well, actually, she was hysterical when I found her. All I know, is whatever happened to me down there, was nothing compared to what she experienced.”

“What makes you say that?” Bobby asked with a slight frown.

Dean looked at him. “I remember bits and pieces of what happened to me. And I know for a fact, that Y/N would have been able to handle going through the things that I remember. Hell, with the abusive family that she grew up in, that kind of torture would have been a cake walk for her. Whatever they put her through down there, it was worse than what I went through. It broke her, Bobby.”

“Naw, Y/N’s too strong for that. She can’t break Dean. You have to believe that. She needs time.” Bobby replied.

Tears welled up in Dean’s eyes as he thrust a finger in the direction of the couch you were sitting on. “You didn’t see her when we were at the graves Bobby. You didn’t hear the way she screamed. You didn’t see the way she looked at me.” He said through gritted teeth, trying his best not to yell. His hand dropped to his side hopelessly and his voice softened as he continued. “She was petrified of me. What if I did something to her while we were down there?”

“Now don’t you listen here, boy, you didn’t harm a hair on that poor girls head. There’s no way you would even think of doing that. So stop beating yourself and go help her.”

“I can’t!” Dean yelled, he stopped and looked over at you. You hated it when people yelled, it irritated you, so you’d always be on Dean’s ass telling him to shut up, but you didn’t this time. You just sat there, rocking. Dean looked back at Bobby in defeat. “She won’t let me anywhere near her. She won’t look at me, she won’t talk to me, and whenever I try to touch her she just falls apart. I can’t remember ninety percent of what happened down there, Bobby, but you only have to look at her to know that she remembers everything. What if I did do something and I’m just not willing to accept it, so my mind is blocking it.”

Bobby didn’t say anything for a long while, and Dean knew that he was mulling the possibility of his theory over in his head. Finally he sighed and looked over at you. “Sam will be here soon. Maybe he can help her.”

****

There was a thread hanging from the sleeve of your shirt, and you picked and pulled at it mercilessly. You found that focusing on it helped you put a wall up in your mind so you didn’t have to listen to the sound of Alistair’s mocking voice anymore. Every now and then a little snippet would slip through, but mostly you managed to keep it at bay and you were slowly getting your sanity back, inch by inch.

“Y/N?” You heard a voice say timidly. You planned on ignoring it, knowing that if you broke your concentration on the thread that the unsteady wall would come crashing down around you, but the familiarity of tone kept nagging at you, so when you heard your name being said again you looked up.

You met familiar eyes and a wave of relief crash through you, washing away all your worries temporarily.

“Sammy.” You breathed out.

He smiled. “Hey Y/N.”

You got up from the couch and ran into arms, jumping so you could wrap your arms around his neck, he caught you easily with a laugh. You’d never heard a more beautiful sound. You gripped him tightly as tears pricked at your eyes again. Dean was standing right there, watching your face, but you still refused to look at him and it broke his heart in two.

Sam set you down on the ground and pulled away slightly so he could look down at you, cupping your face gently in his hands. He leaned down and pressed a kiss onto the top of your head, pulling you in against him again and engulfing you in his warmth. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.” He whispered.

You didn’t answer, instead you just squeezed your eyes shut, gripped his shirt tightly and drew in his scent as you thanked god that you were home.

****

It had been a few months since you were pulled out of hell. The memories still haunted you, but they were easier to block out, and the nightmares were regular but you didn’t scream in your sleep anymore. You could talk to Dean and look at him without relapsing to your broken state, but you couldn’t touch him, and sometimes you had bad days where you couldn’t even be with him by yourself. He remembered everything from Hell, at least that’s what he says. You know he hasn’t because he can still hold your gaze for more than five seconds without looking away. You see flashes of guilt in his eyes sometimes, but that’s because he doesn’t know how to help you, not because he remembers what he did to you. If he ever remembered what he did to you, it would destroy him, and your friendship, if that’s what you could even call it any more, would go from being unstable to unhealthy.

“I’m gonna go grab us some food. You guys keep researching, the quicker we find this thing, the better.” Sam said as he stood up from the dining table and stretched.

“Do you need some help?” You asked hopefully. Today was one of the bad days. Being in such close proximity to Dean for so long had jogged a few bricks loose in your wall.

“No I should be good.” Sam replied, grabbing the keys to the Impala. Dean didn’t even blink, in fact he didn’t even notice, his eyes were focused on you, because he knew what was coming.

“I want to come.” You say, a little bit more desperately.

“Dean needs help with the research Y/N, I’ll be back soon, don’t worry.” He said with a smile, still not getting the hints you were trying to drop.

“Sam, please.” You finally grit out. There was no way he couldn’t pick up on the need and fear in your tone.

He looked at you, worry marring his features, he spared Dean a quick glance but still said nothing. He’d been trying to get you and Dean to spend more time together, but he was torn between trying to salvage the friendship between the two of you and salvaging the broken pieces of your mind by not forcing you into anything, but with things not looking any better he was feeling desperate.

“It’s okay Sam.” Dean said, and you winced at the pain in his voice, you didn’t want to hurt him, but you just couldn’t sit there with him and not see a monster. “I’ll be fine on my own for a little while. Y/N needs a break.”

“Okay.” Sam nodded, then he looked back at you and inclined his head towards the door, gesturing for you to follow. You stood up and didn’t even bother to spare a glance for Dean. It was selfish, but you couldn’t bear to see the hurt and guilt on his face. You were punishing him for something that he couldn’t remember, something that you’re not even sure he really did, it was cruel, you knew that, but no matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t stomach the relationship that the two of you used to have, not with the jagged scar that ran through it now. It would take time to heal all the open wounds that lay between the two of you, but maybe, and you dreaded to think it, they would never heal at all. And maybe they would just scab over, only to be ripped back open with one wrong move. There was no telling what the future held for the two of, but what you did know was that right now, right in this moment, you couldn’t be alone with him.

****

“I need to know what happened down there.” Sam finally asked after a minute of silence. He’d pulled back into the park right outside the motel the three of you were staying in, but when you went to go in, Sam asked you to stay a while. So now here the two of you sat, the scent of fast food drifting around you, searching for a crack to escape through.

You tensed as his words resonated through the car. “What?” You whispered, thinking that maybe you’d heard wrong. Sam had never asked about Hell, in fact he’d always tip toed around the subject, petrified that he’d send you right back into the person you were when you escaped.

“You heard me Y/N.” He said, but he repeated the statement anyway.

“I-I can’t, Sam.” You replied timidly.

“You need too. Something happened down there with Dean, he swears on your life that he can’t remember ever doing anything to you, but it’s obvious that he did. Just tell me what happened, and maybe I can fix it.”

“You can’t fix it!” You yell, Sam gave you a surprised look, this was the most emotion that you’d shown since you got back. He recovered quickly though, seeing your outburst as a good sign.

“I can’t fix what?” Sam asked, thinking that maybe he could coax you into talking.

“Me. Dean. What we had. It’s destroyed, unfixable, nonexistence, broken, choose your adjective Sam, they all bloody well fit.”

“Why can’t it be fixed?”

“Because he tortured me!” You screamed at him. You slapped a hand over your mouth as you realised what you’d just said. “You bastard.” You whispered. Whenever you used to get angry, you’d always blurt stuff out, it was like you lost control of your mouth and if anyone asked the right questions they could get the information they wanted from you just by getting you angry. Sam knew that, and he exploited it.

“I’m sorry.” He said sincerely. “But I needed to know. Dean needs to know.”

“It’ll destroy him.” You whispered with tears in your eyes.

“It’s destroying him now.” Sam replied softly. “You don’t know the things he’s been imagining. At one stage he was convinced that he’d raped you. He still thinks that Y/N. Whatever happened down there, is nowhere near as bad as the things he thinks he did to you.” You leant back in the passenger seat and put a hand to your face, your eyes closing as you realised that everything was about to hit the fan. “You’ve been punishing him, hell, he’s been punishing himself even more than you have, but he doesn’t even know what he did wrong. He needs the truth.”

You sat silently for a minute, just mulling over what he said. You knew deep down he was right, despite the fact that there were so many reasons to keep this from Dean, you knew that he needed to know, that he would want to know, and so you found yourself agreeing. You weren’t thrilled, you were more reluctant about this than you had been about anything in your life, but you didn’t know what other choice you had. You could leave. Pack your bags and never look back, you would never have to face Dean again, and he would get over you in the years to come, you would become a bittersweet memory to him, but you were too selfish for that. You didn’t want to lose him, didn’t want to cut him out of your life, even if it hurt him to stay there.

****

It wasn’t until the next morning that you plucked up the courage to talk to Dean. Sam had left to get breakfast and you’d willingly stayed behind, it had surprised Dean but he didn’t say a word about it, afraid it would scare you off if he did, so he sat at the kitchen table, staring blankly at nothing, while you did your morning routine. Finally you approached the table still wearing the tank top and pyjama shorts that you’d slept in. You hesitantly pulled out the chair opposite him and sat down.

He didn’t look at you, instead he looked down at his hands as he fiddled with his fingers.

“Dean.” You whispered. He froze for a second, and then slowly but surely, his gaze lifted until your eyes locked. You didn’t flinch and you didn’t look away, you just stared right back at him, hoping to god that what you were about to do wouldn’t kill him. “I have to talk to you.” He nodded slowly. “I want to talk to you about what happened to me….in Hell.”

You heard him suck in a breath and then he rasped out. “What did I do to you?”

You opened your mouth and closed it again, unsure of how to start. “Alistair forced me to watch you torture those souls.” You began, and the flicker of guilt across your face almost made you stop, but you had to be strong, there was no going back now. “And then, after….years…..he finally strapped me to the table…..and you tortured me.”

Tears began rolling down Dean’s face as you talked until finally he buried his head in his hands and his shoulders began to shake violently with his silent sobs. Your heart crumbled into pieces at his pain and you regretted ever letting Sam talk you into this.

“Did I…” Dean started to say, his voice was clear as crystal and you could tell he was trying to regain control of his emotions. “Did I rape-”

“No!” You interrupted quickly. “No, of course you didn’t, Dean. It was just old fashioned torture, nothing that I wasn’t already used to, well apart from…..anyway, the details don’t matter. The reason I was so hurt, the reason I was so broken up over it, was because you were the one that did it. And I just….I couldn’t handle seeing you like that. I couldn’t deal with what Alistair turned you into, especially when he turned you on me.”

Dean fell silent and looked down at his hands, solemnly but still with a spark of hope. It was only then that you realised you’d reached across the table and grabbed a hold of his hands. 

You smiled. “I forgot how warm you felt.” You said softly, rubbing your thumbs over his skin.

Dean looked up at you then. “I’m so-”

“No.” You cut him off. “You don’t ever apologise to me about what happened. I don’t blame you Dean. I was just scared.”

“You were scared of me. And you had every reason to be, I’m a monster.” He said bitterly. 

You reached further across the table and cupped his face confidently, in the light of his pain and hurt and guilt you found that your fear had gone away. You found yourself trusting him again.

“Don’t you ever say that about yourself.” You said sternly. “You are not a monster Dean Winchester, you are a man, and you broke, we all break, and there’s no shame in that.”

“But what I did to you-”

“Is forgotten. It’s in the past. Please,” you sighed, “I’m tired of punishing you for something that I don’t even blame you for, so stop punishing yourself and help me get back what we lost.”

He shook his head, tears welling up in his eyes again. You noticed that you were crying too.

“Please Dean.” You sobbed. “I miss you.”

He looked up at you then and very hesitantly lifted a hand to your face. He moved too slowly, and so you grabbed the back of his hand and pressed his palm against your cheek yourself. He smiled slightly as he took his turn to brush his thumb against your skin.

“I miss you too.” He whispered. He leaned forward then and pressed his lips against yours. It wasn’t sexual or romantic, it was just need, a raw, uninhibited need. Your hands roamed over one another as he pressed kisses over you face, neck and shoulders. Eventually he’d managed to pull you over the table until you were straddling his lap, and then you just held each other. Your arms wrapped around his neck and your face buried in his short hair. His arms wrapped tightly around your waist and his face buried in your neck.

“I love you so much.” He mumbled against your skin.

“I love you too.” You whispered back.

****

A year later the two of you were in the Impala, on your way to a diner in town to meet up with Sam. Dean’s hand was casually resting on your thigh and you were happily giving him directions.

The two of you were doing well. You wouldn’t say everything was perfect, you still got queasy whenever you saw Dean with a knife in his hand, but it was better than before, and not just before you told him about Hell, but before Hell itself. You were closer than you had ever been. To the outside world, you were in a relationship, but to the two of you it was….more. It went beyond sex and dating. It was far more profound than that. You shared the same nightmare, the same fears, the same horror story, and in the end that’s what brought you together. The wounds between you had healed leaving jagged scars behind. You didn’t mind them though, they acted as stepping stones between the two of you and they created character in a relationship that was once just filled with alcohol and battle stories. They added more depth to your relationship, reminded you of the things that you could make it through together. They reminded you, that no matter what happened, you could depend upon each other, you could trust that you would jump in front of a bullet for each other, even if the trigger was pulled by one of you. But in the end it all came down to trust and forgiveness. You trusted that Dean would never hurt you the way he had when he was in Hell, and even though Dean didn’t trust himself, he did trust that you would forgive him, no matter what.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm willing to do a sequel to this one shot. Just comment down below if you'd like that or if you have any ideas or requests that you'd like to be in the next chapter/s.


End file.
